Once loved, once lost
by one-of-the-order01
Summary: Hermione falls for her heroic Potions master but finds something he didn't want her to see. Snape is a bit OOC.
1. A meeting with Dumbledore

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, never have, never will do!**

Severus Snape had been alone for a long time. He tried to tell himself he preferred his own company, so much so that this thought had become the norm when he was sitting alone in his office marking essays or eating lunch at the staff table, not communicating. He discouraged any thought, any fleeting fancy that he wanted something, someone more than he could understand. For that was his downfall; his inability to loose control. Most of his students thought that his cold indifference was his selfish disposition, his fellow teachers thought it was his thirst for learning that kept his nose in the textbooks and out of other's business or 'foolish concerns' as he put it. Only Albus Dumbledore saw through his hardened demeanour, only he could tap into Snape's mind, know the man behind the mask. Maybe that was why he hated the old fool so much. But even with all these flaws, these cracks in his defensive outer-shell, it was he, Severus Snape that found himself sitting in the Headmaster's office like a reprimanded schoolboy, wondering what the topic of this meeting would be.

The wizened old man strolled in, a powerful air about him, one Severus would never be able to achieve, as intimidating as he was perceived.

"Ah, Severus. So glad you could make it," he sat at his desk, facing the Potions Master.

"Yes. And your reason for calling me here is…" said Severus sharply.

"I wanted to discuss your application for the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, again. I'm afraid I simply can't post you, you see you are too valuable as a Potions Master; I just wouldn't be able to replace you." As a highly intelligent man Snape picked up on the double meaning on the seemingly innocent phrase.

"_Replace_ me?" he snarled.

"Well, this is what – the sixth Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher we been through? Quirrel – dead, Gilderoy – hospitalised, Remus - " Snape smirked, but the headmaster continued, apparently noticing Snape's curling lip, "well, you know well enough why he cannot return." Dumbledore said severely.

"You, like most others are afraid the position is _jinxed?_"

"Not jinxed no, it just seems that since the arrival of Harry Potter, we seem to be going through Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher's like nobodies business, and you not being one of Harry's favourite teachers would be an obvious target. Not that I'm implying that Harry Potter has been _attempting _to be rid of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher's."

Snape gritted his teeth. _Potter._ He hated that boy – _loathed_ him. Just like his father. Yes _James._ Snape cringed. An egotistical, self-absorbed imbecile if he ever saw one. _His arrogance, his looks, useless waste of – _

"Severus?" Dumbledore surveyed the man over his half-mooned spectacles, that annoying twinkle glinting in his bright blue eyes.

"Yes, whatever _ headmaster_," agreed Severus, reasoning that the old fool was probably rambling about some new joke shop and if agreeing would get him out faster, that's just what he'd do.

"Well I'm glad you back the idea, I must say I was rather dubious as to whether you'd participate. Very well, that is all then," Dumbledore inclined his head towards the door, signalling for Snape to leave, but he was already there. Severus wrenched open the door and practically threw himself down the spiral staircase.

Positively fuming, he had hardly realised that today was the last day before he had to start teaching '_this generations youth_'. Yet another year wasted on their incompetent minds. At the top of the marble staircase he stopped abruptly as below him raged a sea of black-hatted students, filing into the great hall. He inhaled deeply, drawing himself up to his full height and he stormed through the students.

"Hello Professor!" chirped a 17-year-old Hermione Granger. Though she was no longer the bushy-haired chipmunk bobbing excitedly up and down in her seat, hand in the air waving it around frantically whenever he asked a question, he still couldn't suppress casting her a withering glance before continuing into the Great Hall and up to the teachers table. He pulled out his chair roughly and sat down next to Professor McGonagall. He glared at the Gryffindors, all so "_brave_", foolish more like. Could it be "_bravery_" that ruined his life and turned him into a selfish, lonely old man? No. There was only one he could blame for that.

The headmaster who had slipped in unseen, stood up and a hush descended on the hall.

"Good day and welcome back!" _Ha. Good day. _Snape couldn't think of one single thing that was good about it "Before we tuck into our delicious feast, I would like to let you all know that, after discussing it with the teachers, we will be taking part in something very exciting, but of course, all in good time!" he tapped his nose conspiratorially. Snape sniggered; exciting to that old fool probably meant a new flavour of Berti Bott's bean! "Well, tuck in!" the golden plates magically filled with food, but Severus was hardly hungry; his thoughts in Dumbledore's office had brought back some painful memories.


	2. Teacher Auction

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K Rowling, in case you hadn't already guessed.**

The next few days passed slowly, even by Snape's standards. But it was at Wednesday lunchtime that the Headmaster decided to drop his latest bomb. Severus sat hunched over his meal, as usual, snarling at anyone who came too close, as usual, when (not as usual) the Headmaster began talking to the students. He decided to ignore it and return to his meal when two words leapt out at him.

"_Teacher Auction!"_ Snape choked on his meal, spluttering wildly.

"_A what?"_ he growled.

"A _teacher auction!_" said Dumbledore with the air of a man explaining that two plus two makes four to a very stupid three-year-old. "Each teacher – including myself – will be put up for auction this Friday and the student that bids the highest will win the teacher being auctioned for the whole weekend! The teacher in question will report to the student who bought them and they will discuss the terms of service! This is purely a charity event to raise money for new equipment for the school." There was excited muttering amongst the students and Snape was horribly aware that Potter was staring at him, a malevolent smirk spread widely across his face. As the headmaster sat down, Snape glared at him, pushing away the remnants of his meal.

When the morning of Friday came, Snape could barely drag himself out of bed. He washed his hair and dressed in some normal, black teaching clothes, as he saw no reason as to why he should dress up for the - _occasion_. Slipping on his shoes he stalked out of his chambers, slamming the door behind him. He walked past Potter and his friends apparently oblivious to their jeers. Sitting himself in his usual spot at the teacher's table, he tried to ignore McGonagall's knowing smirk and Professor Dumbledore barely suppressing a chortle.

The whole day was a disaster. He mislabelled several potions and dropped a fresh batch of toads eyes onto the floor, rendering them useless. He had an inkwell dropped onto his head by Peeves, and in trying to curse him he missed due to his anger and cracked a window. Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, he checked his teaching timetable and saw that he had the Gryffindor 7th years last period and that meant –

"Hello _Professor_." _Potter._ Snape snarled menacingly as Potter, Granger and Weasley took their seats at the front of the class. The lesson passed slowly, Snape barely managing not to curse Potter into oblivion. But at the end of the lesson, Snape received a shock that made his blood boil and a vein in his temple pulsate furiously.

"Yeah, Seamus, I've got – what 60 galleons?" Said Potter a little too loudly as he walked towards the door with his _posse,_ "I think I've got a very good use for it. NO one in their right minds is going to bid higher for _him_." Harry shot a malevolent look at Snape as he ducked out the door, narrowly missing Snape's Rictusempra curse. Granger, the last left in the room gave Snape a frightened look (which Snape thought quite suited her) before exiting also. He slumped into a chair behind his desk and sat for who knows how long. When he finally looked at the clock he realised he was already late for the auction. Hauling himself up, he traipsed up to the Great Hall where all the students were sat facing the teachers table, which had been replaced by a podium on which Professor Sprout stood. Lee Jordan stood with a microphone giving a running commentary as the bidding commenced.

"Ah, Severus. I was beginning to think you wouldn't come," whispered Dumbledore as Snape walked to the back of the line of teachers.

"So – did – I," Snape ground out from behind clenched teeth.

"Pardon? Didn't quite catch that," but Snape was quite sure he had. For what seemed like hours he stood awaiting his fate as, one by one, the line of teachers dissipated as they were sold off to students. Finally he heard Lee calling his name. Reluctantly he stood on the podium, feeling a lot like an exhibit at the zoo, with many tourists looking at him eagerly through the glass.

"Well here we have the lovely Professor Snape. His – er – good use in – erm…Well he can make potions!" Snape cringed.

"Watch it Jordan or I'll-" he threatened but go no further a Harry Potter stood up:

"Ten Galleons!" he cried.

"Twenty five!" Draco Malfoy stood up, maybe he of all would save him from Potter's grasp, but Harry seemed determined.

"Thirty five!"

"Forty!"

"FIFTY GALLEONS!!!" a silence fell on the hall so thick a heavy wooden club couldn't break it. It seemed no one wanted to bid higher.

"Well er – fifty galleons to Harry Potter. Going…going…GONE!" Snape sighed and closed his eyes, massaging his temples. He sensed his buyer standing in front of him and said without opening his eyes:

"So Potter, we are to discuss the terms of _service_,"

"Yes. You will accompany me to the library where I'm going to do some homework with Hermione and Ron and then you'll be following me to Gryffindor tower where I think I'll play some wizard's chess with Ron. Tomorrow, meet in the entrance hall at 10 o'clock where you'll be sitting with me and the Gryffindors at breakfast, then we'll go to the Quiddich pitch so I can practise with the rest of the team and, I'll give you further instruction from there. Oh, and – _you_ can carry my bag for me," he smirked, dumping the heavy bag at Severus' feet before marching off triumphantly. Snape picked up the bag, disgusted, and followed him out.

Once at the library Harry, Ron, Hermione and Snape sat down at a table, as Hermione buried her nose in a book and Ron and Harry pulled out long rolls of blank parchment.

"Do you want to get started on Snape's essay then?" asked Ron, as if Snape wasn't there. Severus gave an indignant cough, "Oh, _professor_ Snape's essay." He added.

"Whatever," Harry replied. An hour passed where the only communication they made was to ask each other questions to the point that made Snape wonder how they managed to pass their exams.

"Tell me _Potter, _do you and your ignoramus of a friend actually _listen_ in class?" he said hotly.

"Of course!" Harry said indignantly.

"Well then, why have you said that Wolfsbane is found underground when you _obviously_ know it's found in the stomache of a-"

"Sheep," said Hermione quietly. Snape raised his eyebrows, impressed: after all, he had not discussed Wolfsbane in class since their first year and even then it was a brief discussion.

They sat in the common room in silence; by the time they had got back everyone else had gone to bed. Ron and Harry sat by the fire, sometimes muttering vulgar curses as one of their pieces was annihilated, Hermione sitting in an armchair opposite Severus, her nose in a book again. When Harry and Ron went up the boys' staircase to bed, Snape sat there for a few moments and began massaging his temples again.

"I'm sorry," the only other occupant of the room had spoken.

"What could you possibly be sorry for?" said Snape a little sarcastically.

"I told them not to go too hard on you," he looked up into her eyes.

"I hardly need your concern or…_pity_,"

"Oh – I…I'm sorry." She closed the book hurriedly, got up quickly and retreated up to the girls' dorm. Realising he had probably hurt her feelings, he tried to squash the knot I his stomache and left the common room, returning to his own quarters.

So _tired._ It had been past 1o'clock by the time he had finally got to bed. Dragging himself up, he went into the shower, washing his hair thoroughly (he didn't want to appear too greasy in the presence of Hermione). He pulled on a clean set of robes and his travelling coat; it was likely to be cold outside. He walked to the great hall and saw, to his disappointment, that Harry and Ron were already seated at the Gryffindor table and Hermione wasn't there. Upon seeing him, Harry summoned him over. He sat heavily next to the Gryffindor house ghost.

"Is your friend Miss Granger accompanying I us today?" he said what he hoped was innocently.

"She's at the library at the moment, but she'll meet us at the Quiddich pitch. Did you have a good sleep?" Potter asked mockingly.

"As good as it could have been, knowing I'd have to see you the next day," Snape said in a dangerously quiet voice.

"Now now, we'll have none of that," Harry reprimanded; he knew he'd have hell to pay from Snape afterwards, but this was worth it. The rest of breakfast passed in silence, Snape not touching a thing.

Down at the Quiddich pitch, it was _very_ cold. The bitter wind chilled him to the bone and made his cloak billow out behind him uselessly. Suddenly he was aware of someone else's presence next to him. He turned around in his seat in the stands, and saw Hermione sitting in the row behind, slightly to his left. Her book was away for once and she was looking up at the team flying high in the air. She looked beautiful with her cloak wrapped tight around her, the wind whipping her chestnut hair around her face. Noticing his eyes upon her, she looked down and smiled.

"Hello, Professor," her voice was almost carried away on the wind, but Snape could hear well enough.

"Hello, Miss Granger," he returned.

"Hermione," she corrected, "I hope last night didn't make you too tired. I brought you some breakfast from the great hall, I doubted you'd eaten anything in the presence of my…friends." She pulled out two pieces of buttered toast from underneath her cloak, which he took gratefully. He began to chew, savouring the sweetness on his tongue that he was sure wasn't the butter. Hermione was staring at the match again, but Snape had no desire to watch red and gold buffoons chase a ball up and down a field. There was a slight frown on her face, which Snape thought made her look cute and confused.

"You know I never really understood Quiddich," she said, not looking at him.

"Can it be that the smartest witch of her age is…confused?" she stared into his eyes, still looking confused.

"Was that a compliment, or an insulting jibe?" she asked. He did not answer, but smiled, not his usual wilting smirk dripping with malice, but a true genuine smile that softened his harsh features. Snape watched the game for a while, aware that Hermione was still watching him. He liked that.

"You know Miss Granger, you and I aren't so different." He said after a while.

"Really?" she pressed.

"Both love to read, have a thirst for knowledge…"

"Both will protect others in the face of danger…" she said quietly. Snape turned to her, suddenly intrigued.

"Miss Granger, what have I ever done? I'm no less of a coward than those who cannot speak Lord Voldemort's name," her expression softened as she looked into his velvety green eyes.

"I'll never forget how you saved Harry in our first year. He would have died if you hadn't counter-cursed Quirrel."

"If I recall correctly, you seemed to think it was _I_ who was trying to kill Harry. Why the change of heart?"

"I…didn't know. But now, I do. You're more of a hero than you think, professor," he cocked an eyebrow questioningly. "I mean, you might not think you are, and I mean in day-to-day you can be a little…cold, but," she said hastily as she saw the look on his face, "I mean, in the face of danger, remember when Harry, Ron and I were outside the Whomping Willow and Professor Lupin was transforming? You protected us, stood between certain death and us. You put your life on the line." She finished. There was a pause where Snape looked deep into her caramel-cream eyes.

"You really…think I'm a – a hero?" he said somewhat cautiously.

"You have to ask?" his heart leapt. He'd never been thought of as a hero before. Him a _hero_. Maybe there _was_ someone in this world who didn't think him mean, spiteful and frankly evil. A smile spread across his face.

A few minutes later the practise ended and Harry and Ron landed in front of them.

"Right, well Professor me and Ron are going to get changed and you can leave us until dinner, unless you'd rather stay with _Hermione_," Harry jeered as Hermione flushed and stood up quickly. Anger flared up inside him: how _dare_ he treat Hermione so. Before he could react, Ron and Harry had run off towards the changing room, obviously expecting to be pelted with curses. He turned after Hermione and saw her robes swish out of sight as she ran round the corner, apparently very upset or embarrassed by the whole situation. He got up and followed her.

He found her sitting by herself on a cold stone wall by the fountain in the courtyard. He walked up slowly and sat next to her. They sat in silence for a few moments, neither one looking at the other.

"I _hate _them." She said quietly. Snape continued to look into the distance out over the black lake. "I hate the way they make me _feel_. Like dirt, after all I did for them: writing notes for them to copy, always being loyal and I just feel - "

"Used." He cut in. He realised what he'd said and tried to push the flow of newly awoken memories to the back of his mind.

"Yes…but, how do you know?"

"I didn't use _Legelimens _if that's what you meant. A – situation – similar to yours occurred in my school years that I'd rather not discuss." He explained sadly. She looked at him, trying to read his face, but it was as blank as Riddle's diary. Somehow, without knowing, she understood and decided not to press matters. She'd obviously tapped into his fragile psyche, and found something he'd probably wanted to leave untouched.


	3. Just a dance?

**Disclaimer:** I'm not J.K Rowling…wait – nope still just me.

Over the next week, Snape made sure he made Harry's and Ron's lives a living hell. He gave them extra homework, gave them no help in class and didn't mark their work save the occasional 0 scrawled at the top of the parchment. He noticed in his potions classes, that Hermione no longer bobbed up and down, dying to answer. She merely sat there patiently her elegant hand in the air, her chestnut curls falling gracefully around her small shoulders.

He was contemplating this alone in his office, when there was an unexpected knock on the door.

"Come in," he said and the door opened, presenting Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall, both suppressing gleeful grins. Snape didn't like the way they were looking at him as Dumbledore conjured up two chince chairs for them to sit on.

"Now Severus, I'm not going to beat about the bush with you, so here it is," seeing the look on Snape's face, Dumbledore seemed to shrivel inside himself, "Er, Minerva has something to say to you," McGonagall tutted depreciatively but turned to Snape.

"Well Severus, I'm sure you are aware that the 7th years dance is approaching?" Snape grunted in recognition, "Well, as to make this a very special evening for them all, you and I are to…start a ballroom dancing club," Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously as he scanned their faces, waiting for them to shout 'Joke'! But when no such thing occurred he closed his eyes heavily and massaged his temples again.

"Tell me _headmaster_, do you enjoy putting me through torture?" he said heavily.

"I assure you, it is nothing of the kind! It is simply all students are allowed to come to learn to dance from you and Minerva. I doubt there will be many students there to make you feel…uncomfortable." He and McGonagall stood up apparently ready to leave.

"When," he growled.

"Tomorrow evening, seven o'clock until nine," they backed to the door and slid out, closing it quietly as Snape shot Rictusempra at their retreating backs. _Gods be damned, was there no end?_

The next day passed in excruciating anticipation for Snape. He barely knew how to dance himself. He hadn't danced since…but that was the past. He had been a good dancer then, if it hadn't been for _her_, he probably still would be. There was nothing for it. He'd have to try and see if he'd still got _it._

That evening, he took another shower and got into a clean set of robes. He walked as slowly as he dared down to the ballroom, and to his relief saw that no one was there, but checking the time was horrified to see he was early. He stood against the wall waiting…waiting. Students began to trickle in from all houses, Slytherin excepted. For some reason he was slightly amused at this. There was Neville Longbottom, Zacharias Smith, and more of whom he didn't know the names. Then in walked Minerva, in all her hawk-like glory.

"Welcome all - " a late student walked gingerly into the room and his stomache did a somersault as he saw it was Hermione. She was so beautiful… "Ah Miss Granger, hurry now, hurry. As I was saying; welcome all to the ballroom dance class where we will prepare you for the 7th year's dance. We will begin with a waltz. Professor Snape, if you will," jolted out of his reverie, he cringed and walked forwards shyly, placing one hand on her waist and clasping the other. The music began to play and Snape lead, remembering steps he thought he'd long since forgotten. He let the beat move through him, down to his toes and Hermione gasped at how elegant and graceful he was when dancing. It was like…like he was at home when dancing more than when making potions or taunting Harry.

When it came to them to dance, Zacharias Smith walked up to Hermione and offered his hand. She took it, and he lead her onto the dance floor, holding on perhaps a little too tightly. They began to dance, and Hermione was surprised that she was so good. The music felt like it was lifting her up as she stepped, twirled. He pulled he a little closer and she tried to back away, feeling uncomfortable. He pulled her against him tighter, moving his lips to her ear, licking her lobe playfully. She squirmed against him, disgusted:

"Get away from me!" she struggled. Suddenly he stopped and she looked up and saw Professor Snape with his hand gripping Zacharias' shoulder so tightly his knuckled were white.

"Away," he hissed. Immediately, he backed away from Hermione, "I will be speaking to your head of house about your disgraceful behaviour." He tossed Zacharias out of the room and turned to Hermione.

"Thank you," she said quietly looking at her shoes. She felt his fingers tilt her head up slightly so she was looking into his bright green eyes.

"I must say; you are a very good dancer. May I?" he extended his hand for her to take, which she did. She was lead once more onto the dance floor and he took her hand whilst placing the other on her waist. She placed her free hand gently on his shoulder and let the music take her away as he lead her around the floor. He watched her, a slight smile playing around his lips and she stared back in awe, amazed at how dancing could make her feel. She moved slightly closer, expecting him to back away but he didn't. Her heart began to beat a little faster.

In Snape's own mind, he was admiring her grace. For someone with no dancing experience, she did know how to move. He was aware that Minerva was watching him, smiling, but he didn't need to triumph over her now. _He_ was _dancing_ with _Hermione_. He'd asked her to dance, and she'd said _yes_. His heart was doing backflips and his pulse quickened.

When the song ended, both stood still, still holding on to one another, amazed at how close they'd gotten. Slightly breathless, the pair looked into each others eyes, both smiling now.

"Well done," said Snape.

"Thankyou, I never knew you were such a good dancer…" Oh. My. God. Had she just said that out loud? She was beginning to curse herself when he spoke:

"Nor I you," his voice was silky, the words melting around her, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Well that concludes the dancing class! Next week is the dance, and I'm sure after today's lesson, your partners will be amazed!" McGonagall concluded. Everyone began to move around them, picking up their things and exiting, but still they stood. His hands were warm to the touch and smooth, long fingers interlocked her own. He let go abruptly, flushing slightly.

"I think we should go," he said quietly, not looking at her.

"But – why?" she was stunned; why ruin the moment?

"It would be perceived as…inappropriate."

"But, we only danced…" she lied.

"Am I to believe that's all you felt?" it was her turn to blush and look away, "I thought not." She looked deep into his eyes and nodded, walking swiftly back to the Gryffindor common room.


	4. A change of plans

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter or the song 'Butterfly' by Crazytown. I am also aware that this song is not a slow song, but the lyrics fitted the scene.

Hermione was so busy thinking over the dance, it came as a surprise when Ron came and asked to speak to her in private two days before it.

"Hermione, erm…I have a question for you," expecting it to be about some homework essay she said:

"You know you should have finished your homework earlier Ronald,"

"What? Well anyways, so…do you have a partner for the dance yet?" he said sheepishly.

"Er – no…why do you ask?"

"Well…I was wondering if…if you'd like to go with me?"

"Er…ok,"

"Great! I'll pick you up at seven," he walked off. She was strangely aware that he had been eyeing up Parvati Patil all the while he spoke, but she was so flustered by the whole situation, she thought nothing of it.

On the night of the dance, Hermione slipped into her long black dress, admiring how it flattered her curves perfectly. It was quite simple; ruffled from the waist down with red sequins from the waist up. She teamed it with her black kitten heels and tied her chestnut curls half-up half-down, with a silver butterfly clip to hold it at the back. She walked downstairs and saw Ron in black dress robes waiting for her.

"Hermione…" he said, extending his arm. She linked it and they walked down to the dance. The music was booming and there were people already dancing together and Ron offered to go and get drinks, which Hermione found odd, as they hadn't even started dancing yet. She sat for a moment watching the groups of people dancing, some looking awkward and others just stupid. She saw on the other side of the hall, Professor Snape was standing in against the wall sipping something that looked suspiciously like fire whisky. His hair was tied back loosely so little strands flopped around his face and he was wearing a black and green waistcoat over a whit shirt and black tie. He had a smart pair of black trousers and a black cloak over one shoulder, fastened by an emerald brooch. She was admiring how good he looked when Ron came back and sat next to her, once again staring at Parvati. He handed her her drink and began to sip his own as a slow song came on. His eyes narrowed as he watched Parvati begin to dance with her partner and he pulled Hermione to her feet, nearly spilling her drink down her.

"C'mon, we're dancing." He stalked over to Parvati and her partner and put his hands on her waist, as she placed hers on his shoulders. She knew he was watching the pair out of the corner of his eyes and after a few minutes, when Parvati's partner had gone to get drinks, he asked: "Do you mind if I…" he indicated to Parvati. She felt tears well up and she ran out of the hall onto the dark grounds and sat heavily on a bench. She sat there for a few minutes, painfully aware of how stupid she'd been. She felt the bench shift slightly, like it did when someone sat down. She took her head out of her hands and looked to see who was next to her. It was Professor Snape. He said nothing for a moment, then staring out over the black lake, he said:

"I remember my seventh year's dance. It was the worst night of my life…" he drifted off, and she noticed he wasn't talking in his usual sneer, but in a hollow voice like he was reminiscing over something he'd lost. "But we can't have you feeling that way for the rest of your days can we?"

"But…I don't have a partner," she said tearfully.

There was a pause.

"Will you have me?" he stood up, extending his hand. She looked at it, then up to his face, trying to search it for a hint of deceit, some slim flaw that would expose this as him having too much to drink, or being set up by one of the Slytherins. When she couldn't find anything, she took his hand gently and he lead her back into the great hall, where the song had changed, but to a slow dance she recognised to be a Muggle song. She felt a little awkward, after all; what if Ron or Harry saw? But then again, she thought looking around; everyone was too drunk or too engaged in sucking their partner's faces off to notice. Instead of moving to the traditional position of his hand in hers, the other on her waist, he moved both his hands to her waist and she put hers on his broad shoulders. She felt the beat carry her away once more, and couldn't remember breaking eye contact with the Potions Master once. She listened to the lyrics closer, the intensity of his gaze was unnerving, but in a good way:

I can feel, too much is never enough  
You're always there to lift me up  
When these times get rough

They swayed, moving as one. He was such a good dancer…and those eyes…she felt them searching her soul…god she was so happy she wouldn't even care if he was using _Legelimens_ on her.

I was lost Now I'm found  
Ever since you've been around 

You're the women that I want  
So yo, I'm putting it down.

Why was he feeling this way? There must have been something in that fire whisky…otherwise he would never have asked her to dance, he thought. Though then again, he was glad he had. He was feeling like he wanted to laugh out loud with joy, he was surely about to ruin the moment and laugh.

As the song progressed, the pair moved closer together as couples around them did. Hermione admired his soft clothing under her hands and she slide them down do his chest. She felt him stiffen momentarily, but then he softened and she shifted ever so slightly so his hands were a little lower down. To her surprise, he did not move them back and her heart gave a little flutter of pleasure.

She was glad this song was lasting so long, it seemed to be repeating; the DJ was dancing with Professor Binns (a truly remarkable feat as he wasn't even solid). She leant her head against his chest, feeling his heart beat speed up, then slow. He leant his head on the top of hers, and they continued to move in perfect harmony.

Too soon the song ended, and bands of giggling students filtered out of the hall, until only Snape and Hermione were left; both reluctant to move.

"Its late…" Snape said.

"Hmm…" Hermione was so relaxed she didn't want to leave the comfort of his arms.

"I'll walk you back to the Gryffindor Tower, just in case you get into any…trouble," Hermione giggled and she held his hand, pulling him out. They were laughing all the way, both enjoying each other's company. By the time they reached the tower, the corridors were deserted. She leant against the wall, and grabbed his tie, pulling him closer. They were but a hairs width apart, both slightly breathless. Her eyes fluttered closed as Snape moved in. He placed a warm kiss on her lips and she savoured the moment. His lips were firm yet soft, salty yet sweet and he moved to hers. He didn't attempt to push his tongue into her mouth, which Hermione felt was good; it would ruin the moment, making everything less…sweet. When he finally moved away, he stared deep into her eyes. His own had softened and he seemed defenceless…vulnerable. Had she found his only weakness? Was his downfall his intense passion? She'd worry about that later, at the moment, she was too intent on looking into those vivid green eyes…

"We should get to bed…" she said, not meaning it.

"Yes…of – of course," he seemed a little lost, somewhat insecure. She didn't want him to think she was doing this because she was drunk or something, so she moved in closer and planted a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. It tilted into a smile and she slid towards the portrait, whispering the password. It swung open and she stepped inside leaving him with a passing glance before the painting swung shut again.

Snape awoke the next day feeling elated. He'd asked Hermione Granger to dance, and she hadn't run away screaming. They'd even shared a kiss before parting…he couldn't have felt better. But as he showered, the cold hard reality hit him. Their next meeting was likely to be awkward; after all, she probably didn't even like him; she probably just…_pitied_ him. His insides squirmed…it was like his seventh year all over again…_No!_ His mind screamed. He wasn't going to think about that – the greatest person on earth had showed that his feelings were not unrequited, and besides all he need do was ask. He'd do it just before break, yes he had her the lesson before anyways so that would fit nicely.

Hermione sat at breakfast giddy with euphoria. Her silly schoolgirl crush had developed into something more. And the greatest part was, he was an older man; more mature and wasn't in it for one thing. He seemed like the romantic type, a soft shy guy, yes it was easy to see that from the way he'd behaved last night. So very…_gentle_. He hadn't forced her to do something she didn't want to, he'd let her take the lead. Almost as if he didn't want to hurt her. She found this endearing; on the outside he seemed so mean but on the inside he was really sweet. She wanted to talk to him. She'd hang around after her lesson before break. But what if he didn't want to talk to her? What if he didn't really like her just felt sorry for her and didn't want to deny her a swift kiss? But no, there had definitely been something there, and besides, Snape wasn't the type of person who'd randomly go up to people and ask them to dance just because he pitied them. She couldn't wait to see him again, her heart was doing little summersaults just thinking of his name.

All through the potions lesson, the pair maintained a mutual indifference, as not to blow their cover. At the end of the lesson, Hermione took a particularly long time packing away and sent Ron and Harry to break on the pretence of asking Snape about some instruction on how to make a Wiggenweld potion. Snape stood there shiftily, looking at his feet and Hermione flushed, saying nothing.

"Look I - " Snape started but Hermione began to speak at exactly the same time.

"Professor - " they both stopped in a kind of awkward embarrassment, "You first," said Hermione.

"Erm, ok… well last night was great, but I understand completely if you don't want to…to carry on," he flushed not meeting her eyes.

"What? No! I agree, last night was special and…I want to er – carry on – but, only if you do," he looked up and she moved forward gingerly. They embraced awkwardly, and Hermione taking the initiative kissed him lightly on the cheek not wanting to seem too forward even though she was fighting her own urges, and turned to go. Snape caught her hand and pulled her back to him placing a hot kiss on her lips. She closed her eyes and they kissed until neither one could hold their breath any longer. They broke apart panting, all awkwardness gone. The bell went. Footsteps rumbled overhead and Snape picked up her bag for her as she moved towards the door. She reached for it but he opened it for her, handing her her bag. She smiled:

"Chivalry isn't dead then,"

"Anything but," he grinned and she left, feeling better even than last night.

The next few days passed with awkward greetings in between corridors and many a lunchtime spent trying to catch the others eye, then blushing furiously when such an event occurred.

It was a Friday evening when Severus returned from dinner early to find a note on his desk. He picked it up and read it quickly, his forehead creasing as he read further:

Dear Severus 

_I would like to inform you that the Hogwarts staff will be having a residential trip to Hogs Hill to partake in several team-building activities. I believe this is a good idea as it will strengthen bonds between the staff. Also, you are to choose one student from the 6th or 7th year to accompany you (not necessarily from your own house)as I think this would also help inter-house relations. The trip will last from Saturday until the Sunday evening: be ready to leave outside Hogwarts grounds at 10:00am sharp and we will aim to return by 10:00 pm on the following Sunday._

_Your attendance is compulsory. _

_Yours sincerely_

Albus Dumbledore 

Snape snarled, screwing up the letter and chucking it hastily into the fire, but it did not burn. Damn Dumbledore; he must have been expecting that. He mulled the contents of the letter over in his mind and wondered which student to take. He had a pretty good idea but wouldn't the whole situation seem inappropriate? After all, she was a female student and he had never shown any particular want to make contact with any other house. But still…Dumbledore had said that it could be form any house, almost as if he had been expecting it. Well if he was going to take her, he'd have to hurry, they'd be leaving tomorrow. He ran out of his chambers and hurried along the corridors. Luckily he caught her just as she was leaving the Great Hall.

"Hermione," he said hastily.

"Professor? What is it?" she looked a little worried and her brow furrowed in that cute little way.

"Can I – can I ask you something?" he said a little nervously. His palms were sweating after all, what if she said no? "Erm, the teachers are having a residential trip to Hogs Hill tomorrow at 10:00 am as a teambuilding exercise which is completely stupid in my opinion…" he faltered, aware that he was waffling, "so anyways, we each have to bring a student along with us and I was wondering if…if - "

"I'd love to," she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his, grinning. She stroked his hand and left, a bounce in her step. He touched his lips where she had been a few seconds before. Wow, he thought, that had been easier than he'd expected. He walked back to his office, feeling as though he could have skipped if it wouldn't have ruined his bat-like image. Packing socks, trousers and shirts pell-mell into his suitcase he flopped onto his bed, giddy with relief. When he was with Hermione, it was as if all his bad experiences seemed to melt away…He got up and walked over to a small black cabinet and tapped it with his wand. It opened revealing a stone basin with a silvery substance inside, not quite gas but not quite liquid. He raised the wand to his temple and pulled out a thread of silvery string and dropped it into the pensive where it swirled with the others.


	5. A Scare and a Sonnet

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter.

Snape checked the clock and swore loudly. He was running late; it was 9:55 and he hadn't even got his shoes on. He bent down and tied them hurriedly when there was a knock at the door. He opened it and saw Hermione dressed in a cream turtle neck jumper, pale blue jeans and some blue trainers. She was already carrying her suitcase and her hair was pulled back loosely so some caramel curls framed her faces. She put down the case and stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"You look great," she whispered, admiring the grey jumper, casual black jeans and plain black shoes.

"So do you," he kissed her on the cheek and summoned his case. He enchanted his and hers so they floated in front of them as they walked.

When they arrived outside the Hogwarts gates, everyone seemed to be already there. They received a few inquiring looks (Snape suspected they had expected for him to turn up with that snivelling brat Malfoy) but otherwise his appearance seemed to go unnoticed. Professor Sprout stood with Longbottom talking to Professor McGonagall who stood with a nervous looking Gryffindor 6th year. In fact, there didn't seem to be a Slytherin in sight. Snape sighed inwardly; that would eliminate a few awkward questions. But wait; hadn't it always been obvious who the Headmasters favourite student had been? _Potter_. And he was a friend of Hermione, if Potter saw them together he might ask Hermione questions and push her away from him. He couldn't loose his Hermione, not now that he'd gained her affections. But when the Headmaster turned up, it was not with Potter as had been expected but with a curly-haired Huffelpuff boy. Dumbledore raised his hands for silence, and everyone complied, turning to him. He was wearing a tweed Burberry cap with a brown sweater vest and a pair of black-jockey pants. His shoes were pointed and made of what Snape suspected to be crocodile skin and to top it all off, he was wearing some pink-rimmed sunglasses, though the weather was hardly warm. Snape caught Hermione's eye out of the corner of his own and they looked away sniggering silently.

"Welcome!" Dumbledore said. "I'm sure you all know why we are here, but I'll explain anyway, just in case we have someone who wandered here accidentally. We are going on a residential trip to Hogs Hill to promote teambuilding between the staff and students, and will be taking part in many teambuilding activities. Each teacher and student will be sharing a wooden log cabin, which I think is customary in the Muggle sport of camping," Snape felt Hermione shuddering violently with silent fits of laughter and he couldn't suppress a smile himself. "We shall be travelling by port-key so, if everyone would like to take one in groups of five or six," everyone moved around the assortment of random items and Snape and Hermione picked up a particularly mouldy looking boot with Professor Sprout, Neville, Professor McGonagall and the nervous 6th year. In a flash and a tug behind his naval, Snape was spinning though the air, his finger attached to the boot. He landed with a thud, the impact making his knees buckle as he toppled over. Hermione landed on top of him and she giggled while her chuckled at the 'position' they'd found themselves in (and they hadn't even started the activities yet)! She rolled off him and he stood up, helping her to her feet. They looked around. They were standing under a large chestnut tree that had benches all around the base. Opposite the tree was a long row of wooden log cabins, slightly raised off the ground by wooden struts. To the right of these was a small stream, its cold waters sparkling and glittering in the weak sun. Around them, more and more groups of teachers were appearing out of nowhere and moving off into cabins.

"Shall we?" Snape inclined his head towards the row of cabins and Hermione nodded. They levitated their trunks into cabin number 12 followed them inside, looking around. They were in a small room with a sofa and a fireplace, currently not lit. There were three doors opposite and they inspected them one by one. The first two were bedrooms, with a door joining them and the third a small bathroom. They parted, Snape taking the one furthest from the bathroom and Hermione the other. Hermione unpacked her things and could hear Snape doing the same through the wall. Once finished, she walked to the adjoining door and knocked politely.

"Come in," he said. She entered and they stood looking at each other for a moment.

"So…what now?" she asked.

"I guess we go back outside and begin 'teambuilding'," they smiled and walked out into the cold grounds. All the other teachers and their pupils were standing, apparently listening intently to Dumbledore. They snuck in unnoticed and picked up the conversation.

"Our first activity will be abseiling. Something Muggle involving a rope and a very high tower. I suppose we'll find out, won't we?" there was a murmur of agreement amongst the teachers as they began to file out up the hill. They walked in silence, though both were extremely nervous. Hermione hated heights beyond all reason and Snape felt the same way. He could barely make it up to the astronomy tower without seeing his lunch again. He was going to humiliate himself in front of Hermione. _Why_ Dumbledore…_why?_

In Hermione's own mind she couldn't help but feel the same way. Going off an extremely high tower which would possibly be swaying in the wind _backwards_? Attached with nothing but a small cord? Sure the cord was strong but still, this was a big step for Hermione. She didn't even like flying two feet off the ground on a broomstick (despite the fact that she found the whole experience uncomfortable)! They arrived in a small field, in the centre of which was a wooden tower about 35ft in the air. Hermione shuddered as they walked into the entrance of the tower and began to climb the stairs.

"Are you ok? Do you want to sit this one out?" said Snape

"No…no I'm fine," she lied. She didn't want to ruin his day because of her stupid fear.

DAMMIT! Thought Snape. DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT!!! He'd seen her shudder, and wanted even _hoped_ that she might be ill and want to sit this one activity out but _no_. She probably likes abseiling and is just cold, he thought. Now she was going to think him a pussy. Great.

They climbed the tall tower and when they reached the top were told how to belay and attach their safety gear. They strapped themselves in (in what Snape would have called a 'wedgie suit' if he weren't a respected middle-aged man) and they got themselves into partners. Snape was with Hermione when the instructor called for the lightest of the pair to step forward as they would be going first. He sighed inwardly; he wouldn't have to do this first.

She walked forward, petrified. She was shaking like a leaf in the wind and felt violently sick as she stared over the edge. She cast Severus an imploring look and he leaned forward:

"I've got you," he whispered in her ear, so quiet only she could hear it. She felt warmth spread through her numbing limbs and couldn't think of anyone she'd trust more to lower her down a 35ft tower. They strapped themselves in and she leant backwards over the edge and Snape brushed a kiss on her cheek, so swift no one else would notice. She began to walk slowly down; just hoping her feet would hit the ground soon. He lowered her down gently making sure she was safe, reassuring her when she slipped.

When her feet finally touched the ground, she couldn't help herself. Her knees buckled and she fainted.

Snape was just getting into the rhythm; lift up, let go, pull down, tighten, when Hermione had suddenly reached the bottom. Without warning, she collapsed, Snape pulling hard on the rope so not to let her hit the ground. He lowered her gently, unattached himself and ran down the steps. He could feel the whole tower swaying ominously in the wind and was shocked to find a little part of him was glad she'd fainted and spared him this awful fate. He crouched next to her, checking her pulse. Her eyes were fluttering and he scooped her up, running her over to a bench and laying her on it, sitting down himself and laying her head in his lap. He stroked her hair for a few minutes, talking to her all the while, trying to get her to wake up. Quite quickly, she opened her eyes and looked up into his concerned face.

"How are you? Are you ok?" he said worriedly.

"I'm fine its just…I don't like heights much," Snape was surprised. Why had she not told him? They could have been spared this whole situation, perhaps found solace in each other's faults.

"Me neither…I didn't say because I didn't want you to think I was…"

"Immasculine? I would never think that. You saved me. You'll always be my hero," she sat up and took her small hand in his big one. He flushed as he felt her warm touch on his hand and sighed with pleasure as she leant her head against his shoulder. He stroked the back of her palm with his thumb as they watched the other pairs abseil slowly down the tower. He felt like laughing out loud. They both had tried to conceal their fears from the other and it turned out they were both 'shitting bricks' about the whole thing.

The rest of the day seemed to pass in a blur of close contact and "team manoeuvres" in which Snape would always be watching out for Hermione, whether it was him carrying her through a patch of brambles or making the excuse that 'he wasn't hungry' as he passed the last desert to her at dinner.

They sat alone in their separate bedrooms, both lounging on their beds, watching their TV's. Snape couldn't stop thinking about her. He wasn't remotely interested in what he was watching, and switched it off. He could hear her TV through the wall. She probably wasn't even thinking about him.

Through the flimsy drywall, Hermione sat staring at her TV screen, not listening. She was thinking about him. His hair had got considerably less greasy, so dark…matching his eyes. Mysterious. Misunderstood? The TV next door switched off. She looked at the wall expectantly and turned her own off. She got off the bed and put her ear against the wall, straining her ears for any sound.

Snape was lying on his bed, staring at the roof, listening to the noises of Hermione's TV when suddenly it switched off. He sat up abruptly and jumped to his feet. He crawled over to the wall and pressed his ear against it. Nothing. He stood up and knocked on the door joining their rooms. He heard a muffled thump and an 'ouch!' before hurried scrambling. The door opened and Hermione stood in some cute kitten pyjamas. He took her in, and sighed as he breathed in her smell.

"Professor, is anything wrong?" she asked.

"Er – no. I was just…just wondering if…you were – hungry," he barely restrained himself from clapping his hand to his forehead. What a stupid question – they'd only just had dinner.

"Er…no, no I'm fine thanks. Do you want to…" she offered him inside.

"Oh…yes," thank god. She went and sat on the bed and he followed. He stood, slightly awkwardly next to the bed, not sure of what to do. There was a book lying on her bed and he read the title: Shakespearian love sonnets. "Do you like Shakespeare?" she looked up, her expression not ashamed, more defiant.

"Yes. I love the way he writes such beautiful sonnets; it just makes my heart melt. I love a guy who writes poetry," she picked up the book, "You want to read some?" she held it out for him, and he took it, flicking to a sonnet he knew well.

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds  
Admit impediments. Love is not love  
Which alters when it alteration finds,  
Or bends with the remover to remove," he looked at her, her eyes shut, enjoying the power of words. She opened her eyes:

"You must be very uncomfortable standing there," she patted the spot next to her on the bed and he sat down facing her.

"O no! it is an ever-fixed mark  
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;  
It is the star to every wandering bark,  
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.  
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks  
Within his bending sickle's compass come:  
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,  
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.  
If this be error and upon me proved,  
I never writ, nor no man ever loved." He paused and looked up. She was staring at the wall, he eyes glazed over. He looked at her, and she turned to him, making their faces much closer. He could feel her breath on his face, see deep into those eyes. She leaned in closer and kissed him. He moved his lips in answer to hers and her hand wove its way into his hair. Neither was wearing much; Hermione her pyjamas and Snape some silk pyjama bottoms and a baggy black t-shirt. He felt her hand move from his head and he moaned in protest but she did not put it back. Instead she slid both hands round his back and was pulling his shirt off. He wriggled to assist her and soon it was off. She pushed him so he was flat on the bed and he pulled her onto him, kissing her passionately. He moved to her neck, nipping and biting playfully. She slid her hands onto his chest, like she had at the dance but Severus found it much more arousing without his shirt on. She moved down and kissed his chest, lavishing in the fact that there was next to no hair and it was smooth as velvet.

"Too fast?" she panted.

"Hardly," Snape pushed her onto her back and held himself over her, taking in her beauty. She pulled him onto her and kissed him ravenously. She opened her mouth and Snape pushed his tongue in, exploring her tongue. She began grinding herself against him and he felt himself go stiff. He could feel her smiling as he kissed her, as if she enjoyed watching him squirm uncomfortably, but luckily his pyjamas weren't too tight (at least not yet)! He could feel himself slipping away from sanity, becoming some sort of beast. She broke away and pulled off her own pyjama t-shirt. The couple stared at each other, both Snape's and Hermione's eyes were lidded, dripping with lust. He kissed her. He didn't care where his mouth was going; he was going to kiss every piece of skin he could reach. The moans of pleasure coming from Hermione were encouragement enough and soon, the pair were eating away at each other, touching, feeling, kissing any exposed skin.

When they finally stopped, they lay there and Snape pulled a topless and panting Hermione into his arms. She liked the feel of his muscles against her skin, revelling in his scent. She buried her head into the crook of his neck and he kissed the top of her head. Soon they were sleeping, soothed into slumber by each other's breathing. Snape hadn't been happier in his life. He would have been happy if they'd remained fully clothed. In Hermione's mind, she was somewhat glad they hadn't gone all the way, after all this seemed like their relationship was going to last a long time – why rush in and ruin it all? She sighed peacefully in her sleep and buried deeper into Snape's arms, completely and utterly happy.


	6. In too deep

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and as I forgot to put this in the last chapter I'll put it here instead; I don't own Shakespeare either.

**Comment:** Sorry it took me so long to update, I know how annoying it is to read an unfinished story but I kept forgetting. And I'm very sorry at how incredibly short it is, but I've got writers block and I thought, better to write a short relatively ok one than a very long, very tedious and poorly written one. Apologies, and here it is.

The rest of the team building trip passed in a blur to Hermione, that is until the last day. Snape had gone to speak with the Headmaster and she was alone in her room, very, _very_ bored. After several minutes of staring at a blank television screen, she got up and wandered into Severs' room. His curtains were drawn and the room was nearly pitch black. She wandered up to his bed and surveyed it's black sheets. As she turned to go, something caught her eye. A chink of silvery blue light was breaking through an open cabinet door. Curious, she walked over and crouched, opening the oak door. She gasped, a stone basin with ancient runes carved all round the edge was the source of its light. Its content; a swirling haze of silver and blue strands with faded pictures appearing and disappearing beneath its surface. It was his pensive. She leaned in closer and stretched out her hand, briefly glancing over her shoulder to make sure Severus wasn't back yet. Suddenly, she felt a wrenching sensation just behind her navel and she plunged head first into one of Snape's memories.

_It was a warm summers day. She was out in he grounds of Hogwarts by the lake. Everywhere there were students talking, reading and sitting by the lake. Alone, under a birch tree sat a 17-year-old boy. He had shoulder length black hair and heavy lidded eyes. He sat crossed legged, staring avidly at a faded and worn book entitled "The Dark Arts, volume II", but as she studied him closer, she realised his eyes weren't moving. He seemed agitated and after a few minutes he closed the book and put it on the grass. He leant back, surveying the other students longingly. Laughter rippled through the hot air and the boy looked towards the source; a group of boys and girls in Gryffindor sitting under a tall oak near where he was sat. The boy got up and scrambled behind a bush, so as to get a better look and Hermione followed. Four boys and three girls of about his age sat laughing. At the centre of the group sat the obvious ringleaders; a boy with short jet-black rumpled hair and glasses was apparently telling a joke with the aid of his friend: another boy with slightly longer brown hair and dark eyes. The other members of the group seemed to be listening intently to their every word, except one other boy. He sat, apparently engrossed in his book. He had short wispy brown hair and there was something about his face…a tired familiarity. There was wisdom and weathering beyond his age in his face. But who was he? A girl with long blonde hair sat at his side, her arm through his and when she thought about it, it seemed to Hermione that they were a group of couples. The boy with short black hair had his arm around the waist of a red headed girl with startling green eyes and the other ringleader had a pretty Asian girl attached to him. The only single one there was a short, mousy looking boy with a lot of puppy fat. Hermione thought she could guess who they were, and her suspicions were confirmed as the red headed girl spoke._

"_Oh tell us about that time when you and Sirius snuck off into the Forbidden Forest, James," It was Harry's father James, his godfather Sirius and their friends Remus Lupin and Wormtail, otherwise known as Peter Pettigrew. The three girls were obviously their dates._

"_Later Lily," the boy replied, "Er…would you accompany me to…somewhere?" James replied. Lily giggled and they stood up and walked around the side of the castle. Hermione looked at Severus. She couldn't quite figure out his expression. She saw a mixture of anger, longing and hurt. Snape shuffled away, unseen and unheard, picked up his bag and book, and followed the couple. Not knowing what she would see, Hermione followed suit. There was silence and Snape pressed himself up against the wall. Peering around the corner, he saw James and Lily locked in a passionate kiss. James broke off, then thinking better of it, pulled Lily closer and resumed his previous preoccupation. Snape snatched himself back round the corner and sank to the ground. He put his head in his hand and hit himself a few times muttering_

"Stupid, stupid, stupid. What made you think she'd like you?" He got up and risked another look around the corner. Seeing no change he once again turned away. Hermione saw his eyes darken, like a part of him had died. He brushed a tear away angrily and he ran off into the castle, hugging his book. Hermione was in a state of shock. She couldn't believe what she had just seen!

No sooner had she thought this, did a heavy hand clasp her shoulder tightly and she felt her feet lift off the ground as she rose up and out of the pensive.


	7. Big boys don't cry

**Disclaimer:** I have no ownage of Harry Potter and/or related characters, settings or scenarios. These belong to J.K Rowling and her associates and affiliates. Nor do I own the song "Tears don't fall" By Bullet for my Valentine.

**Authors Note:** Very sorry for not updating quicker but as you all know, the release of Harry Potter, The Deathly Hallows has arrived and I spent the previous two days completing it. Also I have about three or four other fics on the go and forgot about finishing this one. Once again, very sorry.

**Other note of ACTUAL IMPORTANCE:** Yes I am well aware that Snape's eyes are **black** but for some reason that I have long since forgotten, I wanted Snape's eyes to be green. But now I feel the era of green eyes has passed, and the dawn of black ones has begun. So just pretend he was wearing contacts before, if you have that much of a problem with it! Happy reading.

_Previously…_

"_Stupid, stupid, stupid. What made you think she'd like you?" He got up and risked another look around the corner. Seeing no change he once again turned away. Hermione saw his eyes darken, like a part of him had died. He brushed a tear away angrily and he ran off into the castle, hugging his book. Hermione was in a state of shock. She couldn't believe what she had just seen!_

_No sooner had she thought this, did a heavy hand clasp her shoulder tightly and she felt her feet lift off the ground as she rose up and out of the pensive._

Breathless and somewhat disorientated, Hermione fell onto the floor of Severus' room, not daring to look up and see who had pulled her out of the pensive, though she thought she had a pretty good idea. She was fearful, yet angry too. How could he not tell her? What did he think when he saw her? When they kissed? He did not attempt to help her to her feet, and she got up of her own accord. She looked up into his black glittering eyes. She tried to read his face, but he had made it blank. Silence.

"Professor, I'm sorry." She squashed her anger, but not for long, "How _could _you?"

Snape seemed taken aback. Obviously he hadn't been expecting this reaction. _Typical._ She thought. _The stuck up bastard's been expecting me to grovel and beg for his forgiveness._

"I assure you, I am not." Hs lips barely moved as he whispered those words.

"How dare you look into my mind? It's an invasion of privacy - "

"Yet you saw it fit to look into mine?" It was not a question, nor said in an accusatory, or even angry tone. But it still stung.

"How could you?" she repeated, "Tell me, all those times we shared together, all those times we kissed, was it me you were kissing? Or Lily?" This time Snape could not hide a flicker of emotion crossing his face, and Hermione knew she had gone too far. Though it was not anger that flickered in his eyes, it was hurt.

"I'm sorry if I gave you the indication that I preferred Lily to you. I assure you, it was not, _is_ not the case." His voice was not angry and he seemed to clench his jaw at the end of this sentence to hold back tears. Hermione found it infuriating at how calm he was remaining. She wanted him to shout at her, so she could shout back at him. Yet at the one time someone wanted him to be cruel and sarcastic, he was anything but. There was silence, Hermione waiting for him to say something. But he just stood there, looking at the floor.

"Well? Say something! Or are you too busy thinking about your dear Lily?" She bit her lip. Why did she just say that? Why was she acting so mean? He was just standing there like a small, frightened little boy. He looked up, the hurt now clearly visible on his face.

"No. It's not like that, that's not how it happened. There's more to it than what you saw,"

"Oh really? Care to divulge? Show me. I'm sure you have it in there somewhere," she jerked her head at the pensive.

"Do not ask me to show you the most embarrassing, the most humiliating, the most painful," he seemed to have second thoughts about the last but continued anyway, "night of my life,"

"All right then! But I can only see what I saw, _Professor_." And with that she stalked through to her room and slammed the door shut so hard it sprang open again. She thrust herself on the bed and heard the door close quietly. She lay there on her bed looking up at the ceiling for what seemed like hours as she watched the shadows grow longer and longer, creeping up her wall until she was sitting in the dark. She knew even the slightest movement could be heard through the walls, so Snape must be keeping as still as possible, as not to disturb, or provoke her.

She must have drifted off, because when she awoke it was now pitch black. She sat up and looked at the door, which was slightly ajar, a small chink of light peeping through into her room. She crept out of bed and over to the door, peering through the crack. Snape had a bedside light on and he was sitting on the floor hugging his knees, staring at the pensive. He appeared to be deep in thought as a fat tear slid down his cheek. For some reason this made Hermione's heart hammer hard and fast against her ribs. There was something about seeing the undeniable, undefeatable Potions Master that everybody respected yet nobody bothered to talk to, crying. It was strange to see such a brave and strong person succumb to displaying fear and emotional disquiet. It made him seem…human. Just like everyone else. She watched as he got up and retreated to the bed, as if afraid of staying too near the pensive as more hot tears slid from his eyes, until he was crying freely. He hid his head in his hands, silent sobs raking through him.

_Your tears don't fall_

_They crash around me_

There was a knot in Hermione's stomache. She tried easing it by saying it was his fault, but of course it was not. She wanted to make amends, but a part of her didn't.

_Her conscious calls_

_The guilty to come home_

She knew he still felt for Lily. Knew that he would rather Harry have been _his_ child, Lily to have been _his_ wife. For _him_ to be killed protecting Lily and Harry. But she was not sure whether he was shedding tears over Lily, or herself. Perhaps both? But she doubted it. It had to be one or the other. She wanted to ask. But she knew entering now would be fatal. She dreaded his reaction, seeing Snape so defenceless would be awkward on both parts. She knew he wouldn't shout, but she wasn't entirely sure what _would_ happen, so decided not to risk it. She sat there by the door, listening to his muffled whimpers of sorrow. She felt tears well up in her eyes, but brushed them away, much as the younger Snape had in his memory.

Soon the sobbing had dissipated, and Hermione looked round the door. Snape was lying on his bed sleeping gently, a frown on his face. She wandered silently into the room, looking at the open window and the breeze blowing in. She shut it quietly and strode over to the bed. She looked down upon his face. He looked so beautiful when he was sleeping. His black hair fell haphazardly around his sculpted features, his skin seeming less sallow, just pale. On closer inspection, it was visible to see his hair (although contrary to popular rumour) was not greasy, but maintained a dark sheen. His long eyelashes, too long to be wasted on a man, fluttered gently in his sleep. She pulled the cover over him and stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"Good night, Severus," she said before leaving, and she could swear she saw the faintest glimmer of a smile tilt his thin lips.

Their arrival back at Hogwarts could not have arrived sooner, in Hermione's opinion. Despite several attempts from Snape to make amends (which was most unlike him) she had maintained a cold indifference towards him. She had denied his offer to assist her in packing her things, had pointedly turned up the television in her room far louder than it had need be, and when he had tried to sit next to her at meals, she had simply stood up and walked to sit somewhere else.  
When they arrived back in the school grounds, Hermione could feel Snape's gaze on her. So far, she had only permitted him to share a port key with her, and this had been only because the rest were all occupied. She looked over her shoulder at the Professor who seemed about to say something. She turned on her heel and stalked off, not allowing him the privilege of talking to her.

---------------------------------------------Severus------------------------------------------------

Severus stood staring at the door adjoining his and her rooms, completely speechless. What was going on? Everything was going so well…they were getting closer and then he had just been called to see the headmaster and upon his return had found Hermione no where to be seen. Strolling over to his pensive, he had looked inside and seen Hermione in his memory. His _worst_ memory. This was the _exact_ memory he had been trying to forget all these years, trying to conceal. And here was the woman he loved, _in _his worst memory. Utterly shocked he had pulled her out right away, before she saw the rest, but soon regretted it. A huge row had followed. He dared not look into her eyes until he could bare it no longer.

"How could you? Tell me, all those times we shared together, all those times we kissed, was it me you were kissing? Or Lily?" his head snapped up and he blinked back tears of anger and hurt. He could think of nothing, and everything to say. He wanted to shout at her, to tell her she was wrong and to leave just like everyone else. He wanted to show her the rest of what happened, to prove that what she saw was not the whole picture. But he didn't have the heart to do either. He bit back the urge to say something sarcastic, prevented himself the pleasure of hurting her as much as she had just hurt him, was still hurting him, because he knew he would not indeed find any pleasure in this. Instead he said a neutral comment to which he hoped she understood his loving earnest:

"I'm sorry if I gave you the indication that I preferred Lily to you. I assure you, it was not, _is_ not the case." He clenched his jaw so hard it hurt. He must not cry in front of her. His crying days were long over. He remembered that brat, _James Potter_ and what he had said in one of their…_encounters._ _"Big boys don't cry, Sevvy"_. Big boys don't cry.

Severus had stayed up late into the night, sitting on the floor, looking at his pensive. All he had wanted was somewhere to remove those most painful memories, leave enough room for new ones, happy ones, with Hermione, to take their place. But now it seemed the happy memories had gone and left their places vacant, and in their place came old, much less fond memories, of Hogwarts, the bullying, and Lily. These memories ran through him, riding every blood cell, like barbed wire prickling through every vein, every artery. Memories of his father, long absent in his mind, the promised Lily had made…and broken. He felt a hot tear slide down his cheek and bit his lip so hard he could taste blood. But still the tears kept on coming. It was the pensive that was doing it, he knew it. He retreated to the bed and put his heavy head in his hands and let the tears fall freely.

He couldn't remember for how long he had been crying. But when he awoke, it was day, and sun was streaming through the window. He couldn't remember getting into bed, and puzzled as to how the covers were pulled over him. Despite this, he packed his things and went to the mess hall for breakfast.

The remainder of the day had been awkward to say the least, but when they at last arrived at Hogwarts, he was determined to end it. Hermione stood a little away from him and realised now was the opportune moment. He raised a hand to take her shoulder and she looked around. He opened his mouth to speak, but she simply walked away. He closed it again and curled his fist. He let it fall to his side, and walked with his things back to his office. He could feel someone's gaze on him, but could not tell who, so dismissing it, he threw his things onto the leather sofa and locked the door behind him. He did not much feel like going to dinner, but knew with his vacancy would come questions. So, pulling on his black robes over his head, he walked slow and sullen to the Great Hall and up to the Staff Table. He sat down next to Professor McGonagall and poked his spaghetti with his fork.

"Anything wrong, Severus?" she inquired. He replied in stony silence, but Professor Flitwick intervened.

"Yes, it seems you and _Miss Granger_ have been getting along sportingly! Quite odd…a Gryffindor student and a Slytherin teacher…don't you think, Minerva?" Snape scowled.

"Hmm, well I did think that, but I can't think of _any_ reason why you invited her over Mr Malfoy, Severus," she said with a knowing smirk which made Snape's blood boil.

"For your information, Malfoy is a lot less _hard working_ then it would seem. Miss Granger on the other hand is up to my intellectual standards and is far more tenacious - " Flitwick coughed

"IN BED! Ahem, excuse me, have a very bad cough you see," he and Minerva sniggered as Snape turned scarlet with rage. He jumped to his feet glaring at Flitwick,

"You vile, foul, perverted old deviant! How _dare_ you demean Miss Granger like that?! I assure you, the relationship between Miss Granger and I is strictly that of the teacher/student - " another cough from that insufferable dwarf,

"Ahem, HARDLY! Ahem, ahem, so sorry," more raucous laughter from the pair and it would seem Professor sprout and Vector had also overheard and were now giggling along too. Snape clenched his fists and turned to the Headmaster.

"Excuse me, _Headmaster_, but I must take my leave as I cannot _stand_ another moment of my time wasted in the company of these," he turned and spat the last two words at his mockers, "BLITHERING IDIOTS!" and with that he turned on one heel and stormed out of the Great Hall, which he noticed had gone silent.

No sooner had he entered his quarters and began pacing up and down, trying to work off some steam did he hear the door close and the Headmaster enter. He glared at his superior.

"Now Severus - "

"What?" he snapped, "Come to punish me, have you? Do you know what those scum said to me? Accused me of doing?"

"No, Severus, I don't. Which is why I am here. As much as I, and I'm sure the rest of the students, enjoy having our mealtime disturbed by a most - _attenuate_ – dispute between members of the faculty, I'm afraid as Headmaster I must understand this _situation_. Will you accompany me to my office?" He said with infuriating calm.

"_But of course,"_ Snape said silkily. Together they walked to his office and Snape found himself, once again, in the circular office, with the same feeling of dread in the pit of his stomache he had had on the day he had been denied the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Now Severus, what is going on between you and Miss Granger?"

"Oh not you too - "

"Was I mistaken then, that you had taken a fancy to her?" Severus stood there, mouth wide open comically in a perfect 'o' shape. Had he been _that_ obvious?

"But – Professor – how?" he managed to say.

"Come, come Severus. I may be an wizened old man but I can recognise love, and perhaps a dispute in love when I see it. Did you think I did not notice Miss Granger pointedly moving to sit anywhere but next to you? Did you think I would miss how you look at her, and how she looks at you in return? When you ran to her aid when she collapsed at the abseiling tower? In the dance lessons when you saved her from Mr Smith? And the ball itself, not _everyone_ was too intoxicated not to notice you and Miss Granger dancing. And as for the encounter afterwards…" Snape had heard enough. He leaned close over the desk glaring into Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes, however he did not flinch.

"You twisted, seedy old man," he snarled.

"Now now we'll have none of that. But I suggest, at least until Miss Granger has graduated that you two keep your – _business_ – quite to a minimum, if you catch my drift," he winked conspiratorially.

"_Are you suggesting I break the rules of conduct regarding the teacher/student relationships?_"

"Though I'm sure you have been nothing but a gentleman to her, you and I both know you have already seen to doing that." Seeing that Snape had no reply to this, he continued, "You have heard what I have to say. And I suggest you make amends with Miss Granger. I thought you would have learnt from your past mistakes Severus. I trust you now to do so. You may leave," Severus practically ran out of the office and back to his quarters. His door was ajar and the cupboard door to which held the pensive, was also open.

"What is it _this_ time?" He sighed. And he walked over to the pensive to see who had violated his privacy once more. With a jolt of horror he saw that it was, once again, Hermione. She was in a different memory this time, in fact, she seemed to be travelling between many of his memories.

---------------------------------------------Hermione----------------------------------------------

_What on earth was that about? _she thought. They had been sitting down, eating dinner and there seemed to be something happening at the staff table. Snape was sitting, shoulders hunched and his face beetroot red to the roots of his hair while McGonagall and Flitwick seemed to be teasing him. Then he stood up and asked the Headmaster if he could leave, (by this time the hall had gone quiet) whereby he shouted "BLITHERING IDIONS" at the teachers. She decided that she was going to follow him, but decided to wait until after dinner.

She knocked on the door but there was no reply. She knocked again, and on getting the same result, pushed it open. There was no one there. _I wonder…_she strolled over to the cabinet, which she knew so well and opened the wooden doors and…sure enough, there sat his pensive. Pulling it out, she poked the surface with the tip of her wand and with the familiar jerking sensation behind her navel, she was thrown, head first, into Snape's memory.


	8. Sevvy, you look good

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of the associated merchandise, storylines and settings.

**Author's Note:** Once again I am VERY sorry for my ridiculously prolonged update but I'm working on three other fanfictions at the moment and haven't been here for three weeks or so. Hope you enjoy this latest chapter.

Chapter eight 

_Hermione fell as she landed in Snape's memory once more. Standing up, she noticed she was in a long dark room, a green-tinted fire alight to her left. There were black leather sofa's in front of it and a painting above depicted Salazar Slytherin in Hogwarts uniform, his wand producing a green snake and a twisted smile on his lips. She was in the Slytherin Common Room. Wondering what she was doing there, she heard footsteps behind her as someone came down the stone steps from one of the dorms. Recognising him from his previous memory, she scowled as a young Snape entered the common room nervously. She noticed his hair was wet, as if he had just taken a shower and he smelled faintly of aftershave. Checking himself in the mirror, he cast a charm to dry his hair and then having second thoughts, placed a de-greasing charm on it too. He exited, and Hermione followed, wondering what could be the occasion. They walked through the corridors and out into the grounds. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow across the emerald grass. Snape walked over to the Lake and turned abruptly round a corner. He stopped abruptly, causing Hermione to walk through him. Snape ducked back round the corner and began pacing, muttering wildly to himself. Hermione did a double-take and saw that Lily Evans was sitting on a bench round the corner, reading a thick textbook._

"_Lily I was wondering if maybe you'd…no, no she'd never buy that." He pulled out a Lily from under his cloak and offered it to the air, "Lily I bought this flower for you because, it's a Lily and your name is Lily and – no Severus that's just weird. Lily - "_

"_Sevvy? What are you doing here?" Both Snape and Hermione span around. Lily was standing there in all her ginger beauty and Hermione heard a little sigh from Snape._

"_Lily I - " Lily moved forwards and took the flower._

"_Sevvy is this for me?" She beamed. Snape looked at his feet, blushing._

"_Lily I was wondering if maybe you'd like to come to the 7__th__ year's dance with me?"_

"_Sure Sevvy, thanks!" She hugged him and ran off into the castle. Snape was smiling happily and he walked back into the castle. _

_Once again Hermione was flying through the air and she landed in another memory. She was back in the Slytherin Dungeon but in the boy's dorm now. Snape was in the same outfit he had worn that night of her own 7__th__ year's dance and was checking himself in the mirror. _

"_Sevvy, you look good," he assured himself shakily. And he did, but Hermione refused to admit it. He pulled out his wand and conjured a Lily, placing it in his button hole. Smoothing his waistcoat he walked out of the Dungeon and into the Great Hall. Seeing as he was a Slytherin and Lily a Gryffindor he couldn't meet her wherever the Gryffindors lived so he'd said he'd meet her by the doors. Soon students began piling in, all with dates and as the minutes passed Snape seemed to be growing more and more agitated. Laughter was coming from the Entrance Hall and both Snape and Hermione turned, recognising the laughter to be from the Marauders. First in was Sirius with the Asian girl Hermione had seen him with in the other memory, then a very tired looking Lupin and the blonde haired girl and finally James and…_

"_Lily?" Snape seemed both shocked, hurt, angry, and many other emotions Hermione could not decipher._

"_Oh Sevvy hi! You look great…didn't you get my owl? James asked me to the dance just after you did and I thought you wouldn't mind so…" the sentence was unfinished but the message was clear. Snape had been ditched at the last minute and was now dateless and humiliated. As the group moved away and disappeared into the mull of students Hermione watched as Snape clenched his jaw, tears welling in his eyes._

"But you promised Lily…you promised…" he whispered.

Another memory. Snape was back in the Boys Dorm standing on a chair. This seemed to be on the same night as he was still in his dress robes. He looked defeated…crumpled. There were tear tracks on his cheeks and there was a knife with fresh blood gracing it's blade lying on the floor. Snape's sleeves were rolled up and Hermione saw with horror and pain that Snape's arms were covered in deep cuts, the blood staining the ends of his shirt. She could envision well enough Snape crying, holding the knife shakily, drawing it across his arm, watching the scarlet run down to the floor…She shook her head and drew her attention back to Snape who was now levitating his school tie in the air…it was a noose…she screamed but knew he could not hear her. She watched helplessly in horrified fascination as he put his head in the noose…and kicked away the chair… once more Hermione felt a heavy hand on her shoulder and once more she felt the familiar jerking sensation behind her navel as she was lifted out of the pensive, Snape still dangling, the colour draining from his face.

Hermione stood, facing present-day Snape, the tears running freely down her cheeks. Without hesitating she ran forward and wrapped her arms tightly around him, sobbing violently. He leant his head on the top of hers and held her tight, rubbing her back comfortingly.

"Please…p-please forgive me…I d-didn't know…I'm s-so s-sorry…" She looked up into his eyes. Her were full of tears, his were empty…broken. He spoke, his own voice wavering with fear, sadness, but understanding. He buried his face in her hair, whispering reassurance to both her and himself…

"I know…I know,"


End file.
